Ionization (Slight M)
Jun 25, 2020 0:26:28 GMT
Post by Dtmahanen on Jun 25, 2020 0:26:28 GMT
Sorry this one took so long to get in your hands, but it was a tough one to write. Either way, I hope you enjoy!
“That is … literally the most generic thing I have ever seen.”
“Well, you’re the one who determined the price range! Everything else was more expensive than that. And it still looks pretty good, ya gotta admit.”
“I mean … can’t argue with you there…”
In my hands is a dress. More specifically, it’s a knee-length, lavender-ish dress. Not a lot of frills, not really that poofy, likely doesn’t show a lot of skin when worn. It’s just … a simple dress. To my right, resting on the dressing room seat, are a pair of simple black flats that I’d already purchased. For 8000 Poké. The dress costs 13,000 Poké.
I hate clothes shopping. So much.
“Ugh, can’t we just, like, go to the Contest tomorrow in normal clothes?” I whine. “Seems like it would be a waste of money to buy a dress and flats for one day!”
“Hey, you never know when you may need it!” Aiden responds from the other side of the door. “Look at me! I didn’t know we’d be doing this, but I brought some along anyway, and now I don’t need to shop for dresses!”
“How lucky you are,” I mutter. I hold the dress up to the mirror on the door and measure it against my body. Just from a cursory glance, it looks like it should be fine, but if my mom taught me anything, it’s that you can’t be too sure until you put the damn thing on. Thankfully, though, it fits nicely when I try it, so I call it a success. I quickly change back into my civvies and exit the changing booth.
“Aw, I don’t get to see it?” Aiden exclaims, putting on a show of disappointment. “And here I am, all dolled up in my new outfit, just for you!” She gestures to herself, having donned a thick, dark-green sleeveless vest jacket.
“Shouldn’t you get something with, I dunno, long sleeves?” I ask.
“Eh, long sleeves are bullshit,” Aiden replies. “Never liked ‘em. Too restrictive. Besides, you’re avoiding the fact that I’m not able to see you in the dress!” She gives me the most overdone pout face I’ve ever seen. “Buzzkill.”
“You’re gonna – oh my Arceus, why – you’re gonna see me in it tomorrow, why do you have to see it now?!”
“Aw man, you’re gonna hold out on me till then?” She sticks her tongue out at me. “Meanie.”
I don’t think my palm can reach my forehead fast enough. Turning around, I see Yossele waving frantically at me as he is about to approach the front of the checkout line. “Let’s get moving, Yossele’s almost at the front,” I remark, waving for Aiden to follow me.
“Oh, yeah, forgot about the line,” she responds, glancing at the procession that seems to extend around the perimeter of the store. “Geez, Fantina did warn us about the pre-festival rush, but this is … kind of a lot.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Smart thinking.”
“Well, one of us has to do it,” I deadpan.
“Oh, hardy har,” Aiden says. “Raise ya to Yosie!” She darts off towards the line.
“Hey, only I get to call him that!” I exclaim as the two of us – carefully – dart towards the golett at the front of the line.
The rest of the day is somewhat uneventful, save for a little bit in the evening after dinner. Since the Gym isn’t technically open at the moment, and Fantina is being very coy about the strengths and weaknesses of Ghost-types, Cynthia takes me to the arena to do some training on the sly. She gives some good advice, specifically about how Ghost-types like to hide and dwell in dark places. “The trick is to surprise them,” she says, demonstrating with Legion. “Expose them to light, or meet them in the shadows like Yossele does with his Shadow Punch, and you should be just fine.”
And, y’know, sorta hard to ignore advice like that. Champion and all that.
But all too quickly, the next day comes. The festival starts at 10, so I wake up much, much earlier than I like. After a quick breakfast, I slowly, carefully put on my dress. I hadn’t thought to bring flats to Sinnoh, but surprisingly, Aiden and I are the same shoe size, so she lends me a pair. It takes me a bit to apply makeup (or, y’know, a little more makeup than usual, to look nice), but eventually I feel ready for the day.
I was right in my assumption that the dress doesn’t show much skin. The sleeves go out to the elbow, and there’s a little belt around me waist that helps the bottom half to feel a bit more secure. However, I can’t help but focus on my face. Focus on the extra foundation and eyeshadow I put around my eyes to cover the bags I’ve noticed are forming. Notice my hair, now a little longer than my shoulders, and the remaining orange bits that taunt me every time I look in the mirror.
And no hoodie to cover it up this time.
“Hey, you ready to go?” I hear Aiden call from outside my room. “Fantina’s already at the Contest Hall, but Cynthia’s waiting on us, and I wanna go!”
“Give me a sec, almost done!” I respond. Turning to Yossele, I sign, {How do I look? Everything check out? Does everything fit right?}
{I do not understand,} he says, {you look like yourself.}
“Right,” I chuckle, “you wouldn’t get that.” Questioning why I would be asking Yossele of all beings about appearances, I exit my room.
And freeze as soon as I see Aiden.
She is wearing a royal blue, sleeveless dress. It complements her navy blue hair, which falls like a sheet down her back down to a little above the end of her dress. I hadn’t really realized how long it was. She’s wearing aquamarine gloves that go nearly up to her elbows. Her big blue eyes seem even bigger and brighter with her makeup, and the blush brings out the color of her cheeks. And her smile.
Oh Arceus, her smile.
She’s … beautiful…
“Okay, now I see why you didn’t wanna show me the dress!” she laughs. “You look great, Mattie! You clean up nice!” She does a little twirl. “Now, whaddaya think about me and mine? Come on, don’t be shy!”
I … can’t speak. My face is hotter than it’s ever been. I can’t stop staring at her. And not even any one part, just…
Her…
“Oh, I’m sure she’s got nothing but lovely things to say,” I hear someone else exclaim. Suddenly, a gloved hand is resting on my shoulder. I look up to see the calm, smiling face of Cynthia looking back at me. Her long hair is tied up in a braided bun, showing more of her face than I’ve seen before. She’s wearing a black, floor-length dress that shows off more of her body than either of us. She’s gorgeous, quite frankly. “However,” she continues, “we should probably get moving. I may have a spot for us to go, but it’ll still be a chore to move around if it’s too crowded.”
“Shoot, you’re totally right,” Aiden says. “Let’s get moving, then!” She darts off towards the door as quickly as her heels allow.
As she leaves, I let out a prolonged sigh of relief. “T-thanks for the save there, Cynthia,” I exhale. “Don’t know what came over me, I just –”
“I know,” she responds. “I get it, I really do.” She gives me a wink. “That was how I felt too.”
And she doesn’t even let me respond before slinking off towards Aiden, a coy smile on her face.
Cynthia’s absolutely right about the crowds. Even getting there as early as we do, there are still massive lines of people picking up tickets at will-call. Easily hundreds – no, thousands – of people are milling around outside, mingling, chatting with each other. Hell, there are even a couple of pokémon battles taking place between some of the more eager Trainers.
Inside is much of the same, save the battling. There are loads people at the gift shops and concession stands, but what catches my eye the quickest – or rather, my nose – is the small of freshly baking pastries. And the Trainers are baking them, no less! When I ask, Aiden lets me know that some Trainers are making treats known as Poffins.
“They’re sorta like PokéBlocks from Hoenn,” she explains. “Basically, they’re sweet treats that are supposed to enhance certain qualities in a pokémon.” She giggles a little bit. “It’s a bit of a Contest superstition, though, but don’t tell most Coordinators that.”
“I’ll be sure not to,” Cynthia replies, getting a laugh out of both of us. “Really, though, making Poffins and enjoying them with your pokémon is a great bonding experience. I do it all the time with Little Miss. Would you like to try it?”
“M-maybe when there’re less people around,” I mumble, trying to avoid eye contact with her. “For now, we should try to get to our seats.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Aiden says with a shrug. She places a hand on my shoulder, causing a mass of butterfree to suddenly start dancing around in my stomach. “I’ll teach you how to do it later. Sound good?”
“Uh, yeah, totally yeah, sounds great, totally.” My head turns sharply away from her, I think to hide how red it probably is.
“You alright Mattie?”
“Totally fine!” I stammer, only realizing how totally not fine I sound after the fact.
“Maybe it’s best to give her a bit of space, Aiden,” Cynthia remarks, stepping close to both of us. “I think she may just be a bit overwhelmed.” She turns to me. “I don’t think you’ve ever been in a Contest Hall before, have you?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s probably it!” I exclaim, relieved for Cynthia’s explanation. “I should get to the seats, maybe get away from the crowds.”
“Totally cool,” Aiden replies. “Give me a bit, I’ll go get some snacks. What sort of stuff do you want?”
“Uh, something chocolatey, I guess?”
“Sweet, I was gonna get some of that too. Be right back!” And at that, she darts off towards the middle of the hall, to what looks like a concession stand.
“Thanks for the save,” I sigh to Cynthia. “I don’t even know what came over me, that was super –”
“Mattie.” Cynthia is giving me with an intense look. She’s still smiling, but there’s something … more to it. “You said the exact same thing earlier.”
“I … did …”
“We should talk. Let’s go to the seats, the exhibition is starting soon.”
“And … we’re gonna talk while it goes on?”
“After. I would like to see my fiancée perform, after all.”
My cheeks go flush with embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. Right. Definitely reasonable.”
“And besides, you’ve never seen a Contest before,” she continues. “It’s a little different actually watching them instead of just hearing about them.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I feel a buzz from my purse (damn you, dresses, for having no pockets!), and see that Aiden has texted me asking what kind of chocolate snack I want. Bunch of candy bars, as well as a small tub of Butterfingers. I text that I want the Butterfingers as Cynthia leads me to the seats.
And boy are they fancy! I’ve been in theaters before, so I’ve seen box seats before, but this is the first time I’ve ever actually been in them before. And they do not disappoint. The entire stage is visible to us, but it’s not at such a weird angle where we might be missing stuff backstage. We can see some judge’s booths at the back, with names prominently displayed for all to see, as well as the people sitting in them: Dexter, an older man with a white mustache and a brown hat; Keira, a woman with reddish-brown hair and a pink dress…
And Fantina, whose chair is currently empty.
“Hey, hope I didn’t miss anything!” I hear Aiden exclaim as she rushes into the box. “Here’s your candy – daaaaaaamn, this is really nice!” She moves up to the railing, almost leaning over the side to take everything in. “You get to have this view, like, every time?”
“It’s a perk,” Cynthia says with a wry smile. The lights blink a couple of times. “It’s starting,” she continues, “let’s give her our attention.”
“Wait, her?” I ask.
Cynthia chuckles. “Did you really think that Fantina would begin a festival without a chance to show off?”
“GOOOOOOOOOD MORNING, HEARTHOME!!” As if manifesting from thin air, Fantina appears in a blast of purple smoke and pyrotechnics, eliciting an eruption of applause. She’s wearing her signature outfit: an ankle-length lavender dress, adorned in sparkling sequins and a yellow “X” pin representing her drifblim. Her hair is tied up in four poofy buns, and Arceus dammit her makeup is perfect.
In other words, she’s entirely in her element.
“Welcome, ma copains, to the Hearthome Contest Festival!” she continues, giving a quick twirl. “I am Fantina Brodeur, but you already knew that.” The crowd chuckles a bit. “And joining me as always are my fellow judges, and dear friends, Dexter Contesta and Keira Joy!” She gestures to the backstage seats, where both of the officials stand up and take a bow. However, while Keira proceeds to take her seat, Dexter grabs a mic resting near the railing.
“It is lovely to see you as well, my dear Fantina, as well as all of you in attendance!” the older man exclaims, his voice surprisingly deep and resonant. “However, Fantina, I feel as though we would be doing a great disservice to our guests if we did not entertain them in some form! I mean, the competition itself does not start for another half hour! We can’t just leave them to count the ceiling tiles, can we?” More laughter from the audience. Admittedly, I’m included in those ranks.
“Ah!” Fantina yelps, grabbing her cheeks in faux-shock. “Of course, how silly of me! We cannot leave you lovely people unentertained!” She grabs two pokéballs that were hidden … somewhere, I’m not entirely sure, and presents them to the audience. “Luckily, as a Coordinator myself, I’ve got just the thing for you all.” She tosses her first pokéball, and Zeppelin, the drifblim Yossele had faced a couple of days ago, puffs onto the stage in a brilliant flash of light. The crowd roars as she puffs her body full of air, swinging and twirling in the air like gravity doesn’t matter to her.
“But wait!” Fantina cries. “There’s more.” The crowd immediately goes silent. Even I can feel myself leaning forward a bit. “As many of you know, I am a Gym Leader as well as a Coordinator. This gives me the distinct privilege of working with experts from all over the world. I recently spent some time in Galar on a shoot, and had the pleasure of learning more about the ghost-types that live there. And, when no one was looking…” She winks. “I managed to sneak one home. Come forth, Skiltlang!”
From her second pokéball, a very different creature emerges. It looks like a patchwork of floating cave art, only connected by a black, wraith-like form. The art forms the shape of a dragon, with the shade granting it arms and an extended tail. The crowd explodes in a mixture of cheers, gasps, and a lot of “oohs” and “aahs”.
I, however, am more fascinated than shocked.
“Is that … a runerigus?” I ask Cynthia. “I’ve only ever heard about those in history books. But, like, they’re actually real?”
“Indeed,” she replies, clearly impressed I was able to recognize it. “Fantina bombarded me with texts when she caught him, begging me to tell me about the inscriptions.” She giggles to herself. “She knows my tastes.” I give her an expectant look, which prompts another laugh. “They’re twelve thousand years old, if you must know,” she continues. “Likely religious in nature, based on the ancient worship of Eternatus in Galar.”
“That’s so cool,” I mutter, turning again to the stage, where Fantina is trying to calm the crowd down.
“Now, what’s say the three of us give you a bit of a show today, eh?” she continues, the crowd responding with more cheers. “We’ve prepared a lovely spectacle for you all this fine day. We call it, ‘Voyage on the Astral Sea.’ Skiltlang, would you be so kind as to bring us into the mood?”
I could swear the etchings on the runerigus’s form twist into a smile as a dense fog begins to emit from his form. The three forms disappear into his Haze as the theater lights dim. Music begins to play from the speakers. I recognize the tune. “Moon River”. However, though I hear a voice humming the melody, it’s coming from a different source.
Then, as the lyrics themselves begin, the fog parts and begins to swirl as we all see Fantina riding on Zeppelin’s arms like a swing. Skiltlang is acting like the basket of a hot air balloon, sending forth small orbs of twinkling fire to surround the drifblim. The hazy atmosphere makes them appear like stars, glistening in a relaxing pattern, like a gentle, cloudy night.
The fog almost seems to solidify into a straightaway as the runerigus glows with blue psychic energy, and Fantina … walks down it, somehow. “How is she –”
“Skiltlang is using Psychic on the clouds and Fantina,” I hear Aiden mutter. “Check it out, she’s glowing too.” I narrow my eyes, and yep, she’s also got a blue sheen about her. “Now shush, I’m trying to watch!”
I laugh a little bit as I turn back to Fantina’s routine. The haze shifts into various forms, like a carpet, stairs, and even a light post reminiscent of “Singin’ In The Rain”, as she slowly makes her way back to the floor. All the while Zeppelin and Skiltlang are floating around her, gently lighting the stage with ghostly flame and fog. It’s … entrancing.
This is nothing like I thought it would be.
The tune begins to reach its climax as Fantina is about to reach the floor. Suddenly, a rush of wind shoots her from the floor, and she rockets upward with nothing to catch onto. The fog closes in, surrounding her, shrouding her from view. I hear gasps from the audience, in shock by what they’re seeing. All of the flickering lights go out, the fog clears…
And Fantina is once again riding on Zeppelin, her legs dangling in the air like she doesn’t have a care in the world. The two float down to the stage once more, and Fantina takes a bow. The crowd, myself included, are on our feet, cheering and applauding the brilliant show.
“Thank you so much!” she shouts. “The competition starts in twenty minutes! We’ll see you then!” And with a twirl of her dress, she and her pokémon disappear backstage.
“Arceus, that was amazing!” I exclaim, turning to Aiden and Cynthia. “Holy shit, did you see how –”
Both women are looking directly at me, sly grins on their faces. “What?” I ask.
Aiden gets up from her seat, walks over to me, and wraps her arm around my shoulder. She smiles.
“Told ya.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “You love ‘em, don’t ya?”
“Come on, Aiden, give her a break,” Cynthia laughs. “She’s only seen the one, you can’t exactly expect her to form an opinion just from that.”
“Hah, fair!” she responds, letting go of me. “I gotta pee, and I get the feeling lines are gonna be long. See ya in a bit!” At that, Aiden darts from the box towards the bathroom.
“I mean, she’s not wrong,” I say, turning back to Cynthia. “That was … really cool.”
“Fantina’s always had a flair for the dramatic,” she replies. “There’s a very good reason she’s been so successful over the years.” She pauses. “But tell me about her pokémon, Mattie.”
“I’m, uh … I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, think about it. Did either of her pokémon seem like they were doing something they didn’t want to do?”
So we’re back to this again. I sigh. “No, they really didn’t,” I mumble. “Hell, for a second there, I feel like that runerigus smiled. Didn’t know that painting could move.”
“Well, it can’t,” Cynthia laughs, “but I think you get it.” She leans closer to me. “I’ve known that runerigus for about three months, and ever since he learned about contests, he’s been excited to try it out.” She smiles. “And do you want to know the lovely part about Skiltlang loving contests in particular?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” I joke.
“Heh, good, you’re catching on,” Cynthia chuckles. “You see, runerigus are said to be cursed. They bring nothing but suffering and mental anguish to whoever they touch, according to the legends. They are meant to bring pain.” She glances off into the crowd. “But Allister, the Ghost-type Gym Leader in Galar, has gone to great pains to change that preconception. And wouldn’t you know it, Fantina meeting Skiltlang as a yamask and introducing him to Contests was the best way to do it.” She sighs. “Runerigus are pokémon, just like any other. Capable of being very different from one another, yet are still just as much a normal runerigus as the next one. It doesn’t matter who they are, or how they act, or what they like.”
That’s … oddly specific.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about me?” I ask.
Cynthia laughs at that. “Not everything has to be about you, you know,” she says. “No, I’m more talking about pokémon here. Although this does speak a bit to your conception of them that you spoke of a few days ago.”
I let out a snort. “Yeah, you got me there,” I reply. “I dunno, hearing something for so long, and never really being challenged on it until years later, it leaves an impression.” I take out Yossele’s pokéball and summon him. As he manifests, he turns to me, then to Cynthia, almost asking permission if he can look around. I give him a nod, and he starts to explore the box. “Think I took Yosie for granted, to be honest.”
“We often do,” Cynthia says. “I’m forty-three years old, and even I have lapses where I think I know better than them.” She smiles and leans back in her chair. “But honestly, isn’t this what the best of Plasma stood for? The notion that pokémon are their own beings, and should be treated with the respect and autonomy they deserve?”
“That’s, um …” I pause. “That’s what N thought. Not sure how many others actually believed that message. They preached it like crazy, but their actions spoke differently.” I sigh. “And I guess I’m right there with ‘em.”
“Then maybe Aiden had a point,” Cynthia responds, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe this journey you’re on is meant to help you grow past that mindset, and truly embody the good that N wanted.”
My cheeks get a bit warm. “Maybe,” I mutter. ‘That’d … be nice, I guess.” We sit there in silence for a bit, Cynthia leaning back into her own chair. I quickly sign to Yossele about Fantina’s routine, and he seems … well, like he doesn’t get it very much. Can’t exactly blame you, bud.
“So, um …” I say, breaking the silence. “Was that … what you’d wanted to talk about earlier?”
The smile leaves Cynthia’s face, and I can’t help but notice her cheeks getting a bit flush. “Being honest, no, it wasn’t,” she replies, “but you’ve been very uncomfortable with the subject matter up to now. If I were to press you on it, then I would be denying you your autonomy, and that would be pushy and rude, not to mention defeat the purpose of that whole conversation.”
My stomach drops an inch. “Oh. This is about this morning, isn’t it?”
“Mattie, please, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.” She chuckles to herself. “That was just me being a stubborn know-it-all who wanted to intervene in what isn’t my business.”
“Heh, I know the feeling.” We both get a laugh out of that. I take a breath to calm my nerves a bit. “Well, how about this? You’re … pretty on the money that I kinda don’t wanna talk about it right now. But … maybe when I am, you’d be down to have that talk? Just, on my terms, not yours?”
“That sounds like a lovely plan,” Cynthia replies, the smile returning to her face. “We’ll exchange numbers before you leave Hearthome, so let’s not worry about that now.”
“Perfect.” I lean back in my seat, just as Aiden slips back into her seat again.
“Sorry about that,” she gasps, “the line was murder. I miss anything?”
“Not at all,” Cynthia replies, taking a look at the now-filling auditorium. “In fact, I’d say you’re just in time.” She motions to the judge seats, where now all three are occupied. “Looks like they’re ready to start.”
“Sick.” Aiden nudges me. “You excited?”
“Absolutely,” I reply. “Fantina’s was good, but it was a high bar. I hope they meet my newfound expectations.”
Aiden and Cynthia get a kick out of that. But as the lights dim and the festival proper begins, I’m not let down. The rest of the acts, while definitely not Fantina, are lovely in their own right.
But I keep thinking back to earlier. To the comments Cynthia made this morning, and the conversation that was left unsaid. I feel like I know what she was gonna bring up. And, yeah, oh my Arceus, that would’ve been so friggin’ rude.
But honestly? After this morning?
I don’t really know how I feel anymore.
CHAPTER 17: Put Your Best Foot Forward
“That is … literally the most generic thing I have ever seen.”
“Well, you’re the one who determined the price range! Everything else was more expensive than that. And it still looks pretty good, ya gotta admit.”
“I mean … can’t argue with you there…”
In my hands is a dress. More specifically, it’s a knee-length, lavender-ish dress. Not a lot of frills, not really that poofy, likely doesn’t show a lot of skin when worn. It’s just … a simple dress. To my right, resting on the dressing room seat, are a pair of simple black flats that I’d already purchased. For 8000 Poké. The dress costs 13,000 Poké.
I hate clothes shopping. So much.
“Ugh, can’t we just, like, go to the Contest tomorrow in normal clothes?” I whine. “Seems like it would be a waste of money to buy a dress and flats for one day!”
“Hey, you never know when you may need it!” Aiden responds from the other side of the door. “Look at me! I didn’t know we’d be doing this, but I brought some along anyway, and now I don’t need to shop for dresses!”
“How lucky you are,” I mutter. I hold the dress up to the mirror on the door and measure it against my body. Just from a cursory glance, it looks like it should be fine, but if my mom taught me anything, it’s that you can’t be too sure until you put the damn thing on. Thankfully, though, it fits nicely when I try it, so I call it a success. I quickly change back into my civvies and exit the changing booth.
“Aw, I don’t get to see it?” Aiden exclaims, putting on a show of disappointment. “And here I am, all dolled up in my new outfit, just for you!” She gestures to herself, having donned a thick, dark-green sleeveless vest jacket.
“Shouldn’t you get something with, I dunno, long sleeves?” I ask.
“Eh, long sleeves are bullshit,” Aiden replies. “Never liked ‘em. Too restrictive. Besides, you’re avoiding the fact that I’m not able to see you in the dress!” She gives me the most overdone pout face I’ve ever seen. “Buzzkill.”
“You’re gonna – oh my Arceus, why – you’re gonna see me in it tomorrow, why do you have to see it now?!”
“Aw man, you’re gonna hold out on me till then?” She sticks her tongue out at me. “Meanie.”
I don’t think my palm can reach my forehead fast enough. Turning around, I see Yossele waving frantically at me as he is about to approach the front of the checkout line. “Let’s get moving, Yossele’s almost at the front,” I remark, waving for Aiden to follow me.
“Oh, yeah, forgot about the line,” she responds, glancing at the procession that seems to extend around the perimeter of the store. “Geez, Fantina did warn us about the pre-festival rush, but this is … kind of a lot.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Smart thinking.”
“Well, one of us has to do it,” I deadpan.
“Oh, hardy har,” Aiden says. “Raise ya to Yosie!” She darts off towards the line.
“Hey, only I get to call him that!” I exclaim as the two of us – carefully – dart towards the golett at the front of the line.
----------------------------------
The rest of the day is somewhat uneventful, save for a little bit in the evening after dinner. Since the Gym isn’t technically open at the moment, and Fantina is being very coy about the strengths and weaknesses of Ghost-types, Cynthia takes me to the arena to do some training on the sly. She gives some good advice, specifically about how Ghost-types like to hide and dwell in dark places. “The trick is to surprise them,” she says, demonstrating with Legion. “Expose them to light, or meet them in the shadows like Yossele does with his Shadow Punch, and you should be just fine.”
And, y’know, sorta hard to ignore advice like that. Champion and all that.
But all too quickly, the next day comes. The festival starts at 10, so I wake up much, much earlier than I like. After a quick breakfast, I slowly, carefully put on my dress. I hadn’t thought to bring flats to Sinnoh, but surprisingly, Aiden and I are the same shoe size, so she lends me a pair. It takes me a bit to apply makeup (or, y’know, a little more makeup than usual, to look nice), but eventually I feel ready for the day.
I was right in my assumption that the dress doesn’t show much skin. The sleeves go out to the elbow, and there’s a little belt around me waist that helps the bottom half to feel a bit more secure. However, I can’t help but focus on my face. Focus on the extra foundation and eyeshadow I put around my eyes to cover the bags I’ve noticed are forming. Notice my hair, now a little longer than my shoulders, and the remaining orange bits that taunt me every time I look in the mirror.
And no hoodie to cover it up this time.
“Hey, you ready to go?” I hear Aiden call from outside my room. “Fantina’s already at the Contest Hall, but Cynthia’s waiting on us, and I wanna go!”
“Give me a sec, almost done!” I respond. Turning to Yossele, I sign, {How do I look? Everything check out? Does everything fit right?}
{I do not understand,} he says, {you look like yourself.}
“Right,” I chuckle, “you wouldn’t get that.” Questioning why I would be asking Yossele of all beings about appearances, I exit my room.
And freeze as soon as I see Aiden.
She is wearing a royal blue, sleeveless dress. It complements her navy blue hair, which falls like a sheet down her back down to a little above the end of her dress. I hadn’t really realized how long it was. She’s wearing aquamarine gloves that go nearly up to her elbows. Her big blue eyes seem even bigger and brighter with her makeup, and the blush brings out the color of her cheeks. And her smile.
Oh Arceus, her smile.
She’s … beautiful…
“Okay, now I see why you didn’t wanna show me the dress!” she laughs. “You look great, Mattie! You clean up nice!” She does a little twirl. “Now, whaddaya think about me and mine? Come on, don’t be shy!”
I … can’t speak. My face is hotter than it’s ever been. I can’t stop staring at her. And not even any one part, just…
Her…
“Oh, I’m sure she’s got nothing but lovely things to say,” I hear someone else exclaim. Suddenly, a gloved hand is resting on my shoulder. I look up to see the calm, smiling face of Cynthia looking back at me. Her long hair is tied up in a braided bun, showing more of her face than I’ve seen before. She’s wearing a black, floor-length dress that shows off more of her body than either of us. She’s gorgeous, quite frankly. “However,” she continues, “we should probably get moving. I may have a spot for us to go, but it’ll still be a chore to move around if it’s too crowded.”
“Shoot, you’re totally right,” Aiden says. “Let’s get moving, then!” She darts off towards the door as quickly as her heels allow.
As she leaves, I let out a prolonged sigh of relief. “T-thanks for the save there, Cynthia,” I exhale. “Don’t know what came over me, I just –”
“I know,” she responds. “I get it, I really do.” She gives me a wink. “That was how I felt too.”
And she doesn’t even let me respond before slinking off towards Aiden, a coy smile on her face.
-----------------------------------------
Cynthia’s absolutely right about the crowds. Even getting there as early as we do, there are still massive lines of people picking up tickets at will-call. Easily hundreds – no, thousands – of people are milling around outside, mingling, chatting with each other. Hell, there are even a couple of pokémon battles taking place between some of the more eager Trainers.
Inside is much of the same, save the battling. There are loads people at the gift shops and concession stands, but what catches my eye the quickest – or rather, my nose – is the small of freshly baking pastries. And the Trainers are baking them, no less! When I ask, Aiden lets me know that some Trainers are making treats known as Poffins.
“They’re sorta like PokéBlocks from Hoenn,” she explains. “Basically, they’re sweet treats that are supposed to enhance certain qualities in a pokémon.” She giggles a little bit. “It’s a bit of a Contest superstition, though, but don’t tell most Coordinators that.”
“I’ll be sure not to,” Cynthia replies, getting a laugh out of both of us. “Really, though, making Poffins and enjoying them with your pokémon is a great bonding experience. I do it all the time with Little Miss. Would you like to try it?”
“M-maybe when there’re less people around,” I mumble, trying to avoid eye contact with her. “For now, we should try to get to our seats.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Aiden says with a shrug. She places a hand on my shoulder, causing a mass of butterfree to suddenly start dancing around in my stomach. “I’ll teach you how to do it later. Sound good?”
“Uh, yeah, totally yeah, sounds great, totally.” My head turns sharply away from her, I think to hide how red it probably is.
“You alright Mattie?”
“Totally fine!” I stammer, only realizing how totally not fine I sound after the fact.
“Maybe it’s best to give her a bit of space, Aiden,” Cynthia remarks, stepping close to both of us. “I think she may just be a bit overwhelmed.” She turns to me. “I don’t think you’ve ever been in a Contest Hall before, have you?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s probably it!” I exclaim, relieved for Cynthia’s explanation. “I should get to the seats, maybe get away from the crowds.”
“Totally cool,” Aiden replies. “Give me a bit, I’ll go get some snacks. What sort of stuff do you want?”
“Uh, something chocolatey, I guess?”
“Sweet, I was gonna get some of that too. Be right back!” And at that, she darts off towards the middle of the hall, to what looks like a concession stand.
“Thanks for the save,” I sigh to Cynthia. “I don’t even know what came over me, that was super –”
“Mattie.” Cynthia is giving me with an intense look. She’s still smiling, but there’s something … more to it. “You said the exact same thing earlier.”
“I … did …”
“We should talk. Let’s go to the seats, the exhibition is starting soon.”
“And … we’re gonna talk while it goes on?”
“After. I would like to see my fiancée perform, after all.”
My cheeks go flush with embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. Right. Definitely reasonable.”
“And besides, you’ve never seen a Contest before,” she continues. “It’s a little different actually watching them instead of just hearing about them.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I feel a buzz from my purse (damn you, dresses, for having no pockets!), and see that Aiden has texted me asking what kind of chocolate snack I want. Bunch of candy bars, as well as a small tub of Butterfingers. I text that I want the Butterfingers as Cynthia leads me to the seats.
And boy are they fancy! I’ve been in theaters before, so I’ve seen box seats before, but this is the first time I’ve ever actually been in them before. And they do not disappoint. The entire stage is visible to us, but it’s not at such a weird angle where we might be missing stuff backstage. We can see some judge’s booths at the back, with names prominently displayed for all to see, as well as the people sitting in them: Dexter, an older man with a white mustache and a brown hat; Keira, a woman with reddish-brown hair and a pink dress…
And Fantina, whose chair is currently empty.
“Hey, hope I didn’t miss anything!” I hear Aiden exclaim as she rushes into the box. “Here’s your candy – daaaaaaamn, this is really nice!” She moves up to the railing, almost leaning over the side to take everything in. “You get to have this view, like, every time?”
“It’s a perk,” Cynthia says with a wry smile. The lights blink a couple of times. “It’s starting,” she continues, “let’s give her our attention.”
“Wait, her?” I ask.
Cynthia chuckles. “Did you really think that Fantina would begin a festival without a chance to show off?”
“GOOOOOOOOOD MORNING, HEARTHOME!!” As if manifesting from thin air, Fantina appears in a blast of purple smoke and pyrotechnics, eliciting an eruption of applause. She’s wearing her signature outfit: an ankle-length lavender dress, adorned in sparkling sequins and a yellow “X” pin representing her drifblim. Her hair is tied up in four poofy buns, and Arceus dammit her makeup is perfect.
In other words, she’s entirely in her element.
“Welcome, ma copains, to the Hearthome Contest Festival!” she continues, giving a quick twirl. “I am Fantina Brodeur, but you already knew that.” The crowd chuckles a bit. “And joining me as always are my fellow judges, and dear friends, Dexter Contesta and Keira Joy!” She gestures to the backstage seats, where both of the officials stand up and take a bow. However, while Keira proceeds to take her seat, Dexter grabs a mic resting near the railing.
“It is lovely to see you as well, my dear Fantina, as well as all of you in attendance!” the older man exclaims, his voice surprisingly deep and resonant. “However, Fantina, I feel as though we would be doing a great disservice to our guests if we did not entertain them in some form! I mean, the competition itself does not start for another half hour! We can’t just leave them to count the ceiling tiles, can we?” More laughter from the audience. Admittedly, I’m included in those ranks.
“Ah!” Fantina yelps, grabbing her cheeks in faux-shock. “Of course, how silly of me! We cannot leave you lovely people unentertained!” She grabs two pokéballs that were hidden … somewhere, I’m not entirely sure, and presents them to the audience. “Luckily, as a Coordinator myself, I’ve got just the thing for you all.” She tosses her first pokéball, and Zeppelin, the drifblim Yossele had faced a couple of days ago, puffs onto the stage in a brilliant flash of light. The crowd roars as she puffs her body full of air, swinging and twirling in the air like gravity doesn’t matter to her.
“But wait!” Fantina cries. “There’s more.” The crowd immediately goes silent. Even I can feel myself leaning forward a bit. “As many of you know, I am a Gym Leader as well as a Coordinator. This gives me the distinct privilege of working with experts from all over the world. I recently spent some time in Galar on a shoot, and had the pleasure of learning more about the ghost-types that live there. And, when no one was looking…” She winks. “I managed to sneak one home. Come forth, Skiltlang!”
From her second pokéball, a very different creature emerges. It looks like a patchwork of floating cave art, only connected by a black, wraith-like form. The art forms the shape of a dragon, with the shade granting it arms and an extended tail. The crowd explodes in a mixture of cheers, gasps, and a lot of “oohs” and “aahs”.
I, however, am more fascinated than shocked.
“Is that … a runerigus?” I ask Cynthia. “I’ve only ever heard about those in history books. But, like, they’re actually real?”
“Indeed,” she replies, clearly impressed I was able to recognize it. “Fantina bombarded me with texts when she caught him, begging me to tell me about the inscriptions.” She giggles to herself. “She knows my tastes.” I give her an expectant look, which prompts another laugh. “They’re twelve thousand years old, if you must know,” she continues. “Likely religious in nature, based on the ancient worship of Eternatus in Galar.”
“That’s so cool,” I mutter, turning again to the stage, where Fantina is trying to calm the crowd down.
“Now, what’s say the three of us give you a bit of a show today, eh?” she continues, the crowd responding with more cheers. “We’ve prepared a lovely spectacle for you all this fine day. We call it, ‘Voyage on the Astral Sea.’ Skiltlang, would you be so kind as to bring us into the mood?”
I could swear the etchings on the runerigus’s form twist into a smile as a dense fog begins to emit from his form. The three forms disappear into his Haze as the theater lights dim. Music begins to play from the speakers. I recognize the tune. “Moon River”. However, though I hear a voice humming the melody, it’s coming from a different source.
Then, as the lyrics themselves begin, the fog parts and begins to swirl as we all see Fantina riding on Zeppelin’s arms like a swing. Skiltlang is acting like the basket of a hot air balloon, sending forth small orbs of twinkling fire to surround the drifblim. The hazy atmosphere makes them appear like stars, glistening in a relaxing pattern, like a gentle, cloudy night.
The fog almost seems to solidify into a straightaway as the runerigus glows with blue psychic energy, and Fantina … walks down it, somehow. “How is she –”
“Skiltlang is using Psychic on the clouds and Fantina,” I hear Aiden mutter. “Check it out, she’s glowing too.” I narrow my eyes, and yep, she’s also got a blue sheen about her. “Now shush, I’m trying to watch!”
I laugh a little bit as I turn back to Fantina’s routine. The haze shifts into various forms, like a carpet, stairs, and even a light post reminiscent of “Singin’ In The Rain”, as she slowly makes her way back to the floor. All the while Zeppelin and Skiltlang are floating around her, gently lighting the stage with ghostly flame and fog. It’s … entrancing.
This is nothing like I thought it would be.
The tune begins to reach its climax as Fantina is about to reach the floor. Suddenly, a rush of wind shoots her from the floor, and she rockets upward with nothing to catch onto. The fog closes in, surrounding her, shrouding her from view. I hear gasps from the audience, in shock by what they’re seeing. All of the flickering lights go out, the fog clears…
And Fantina is once again riding on Zeppelin, her legs dangling in the air like she doesn’t have a care in the world. The two float down to the stage once more, and Fantina takes a bow. The crowd, myself included, are on our feet, cheering and applauding the brilliant show.
“Thank you so much!” she shouts. “The competition starts in twenty minutes! We’ll see you then!” And with a twirl of her dress, she and her pokémon disappear backstage.
“Arceus, that was amazing!” I exclaim, turning to Aiden and Cynthia. “Holy shit, did you see how –”
Both women are looking directly at me, sly grins on their faces. “What?” I ask.
Aiden gets up from her seat, walks over to me, and wraps her arm around my shoulder. She smiles.
“Told ya.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “You love ‘em, don’t ya?”
“Come on, Aiden, give her a break,” Cynthia laughs. “She’s only seen the one, you can’t exactly expect her to form an opinion just from that.”
“Hah, fair!” she responds, letting go of me. “I gotta pee, and I get the feeling lines are gonna be long. See ya in a bit!” At that, Aiden darts from the box towards the bathroom.
“I mean, she’s not wrong,” I say, turning back to Cynthia. “That was … really cool.”
“Fantina’s always had a flair for the dramatic,” she replies. “There’s a very good reason she’s been so successful over the years.” She pauses. “But tell me about her pokémon, Mattie.”
“I’m, uh … I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, think about it. Did either of her pokémon seem like they were doing something they didn’t want to do?”
So we’re back to this again. I sigh. “No, they really didn’t,” I mumble. “Hell, for a second there, I feel like that runerigus smiled. Didn’t know that painting could move.”
“Well, it can’t,” Cynthia laughs, “but I think you get it.” She leans closer to me. “I’ve known that runerigus for about three months, and ever since he learned about contests, he’s been excited to try it out.” She smiles. “And do you want to know the lovely part about Skiltlang loving contests in particular?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” I joke.
“Heh, good, you’re catching on,” Cynthia chuckles. “You see, runerigus are said to be cursed. They bring nothing but suffering and mental anguish to whoever they touch, according to the legends. They are meant to bring pain.” She glances off into the crowd. “But Allister, the Ghost-type Gym Leader in Galar, has gone to great pains to change that preconception. And wouldn’t you know it, Fantina meeting Skiltlang as a yamask and introducing him to Contests was the best way to do it.” She sighs. “Runerigus are pokémon, just like any other. Capable of being very different from one another, yet are still just as much a normal runerigus as the next one. It doesn’t matter who they are, or how they act, or what they like.”
That’s … oddly specific.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about me?” I ask.
Cynthia laughs at that. “Not everything has to be about you, you know,” she says. “No, I’m more talking about pokémon here. Although this does speak a bit to your conception of them that you spoke of a few days ago.”
I let out a snort. “Yeah, you got me there,” I reply. “I dunno, hearing something for so long, and never really being challenged on it until years later, it leaves an impression.” I take out Yossele’s pokéball and summon him. As he manifests, he turns to me, then to Cynthia, almost asking permission if he can look around. I give him a nod, and he starts to explore the box. “Think I took Yosie for granted, to be honest.”
“We often do,” Cynthia says. “I’m forty-three years old, and even I have lapses where I think I know better than them.” She smiles and leans back in her chair. “But honestly, isn’t this what the best of Plasma stood for? The notion that pokémon are their own beings, and should be treated with the respect and autonomy they deserve?”
“That’s, um …” I pause. “That’s what N thought. Not sure how many others actually believed that message. They preached it like crazy, but their actions spoke differently.” I sigh. “And I guess I’m right there with ‘em.”
“Then maybe Aiden had a point,” Cynthia responds, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe this journey you’re on is meant to help you grow past that mindset, and truly embody the good that N wanted.”
My cheeks get a bit warm. “Maybe,” I mutter. ‘That’d … be nice, I guess.” We sit there in silence for a bit, Cynthia leaning back into her own chair. I quickly sign to Yossele about Fantina’s routine, and he seems … well, like he doesn’t get it very much. Can’t exactly blame you, bud.
“So, um …” I say, breaking the silence. “Was that … what you’d wanted to talk about earlier?”
The smile leaves Cynthia’s face, and I can’t help but notice her cheeks getting a bit flush. “Being honest, no, it wasn’t,” she replies, “but you’ve been very uncomfortable with the subject matter up to now. If I were to press you on it, then I would be denying you your autonomy, and that would be pushy and rude, not to mention defeat the purpose of that whole conversation.”
My stomach drops an inch. “Oh. This is about this morning, isn’t it?”
“Mattie, please, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.” She chuckles to herself. “That was just me being a stubborn know-it-all who wanted to intervene in what isn’t my business.”
“Heh, I know the feeling.” We both get a laugh out of that. I take a breath to calm my nerves a bit. “Well, how about this? You’re … pretty on the money that I kinda don’t wanna talk about it right now. But … maybe when I am, you’d be down to have that talk? Just, on my terms, not yours?”
“That sounds like a lovely plan,” Cynthia replies, the smile returning to her face. “We’ll exchange numbers before you leave Hearthome, so let’s not worry about that now.”
“Perfect.” I lean back in my seat, just as Aiden slips back into her seat again.
“Sorry about that,” she gasps, “the line was murder. I miss anything?”
“Not at all,” Cynthia replies, taking a look at the now-filling auditorium. “In fact, I’d say you’re just in time.” She motions to the judge seats, where now all three are occupied. “Looks like they’re ready to start.”
“Sick.” Aiden nudges me. “You excited?”
“Absolutely,” I reply. “Fantina’s was good, but it was a high bar. I hope they meet my newfound expectations.”
Aiden and Cynthia get a kick out of that. But as the lights dim and the festival proper begins, I’m not let down. The rest of the acts, while definitely not Fantina, are lovely in their own right.
But I keep thinking back to earlier. To the comments Cynthia made this morning, and the conversation that was left unsaid. I feel like I know what she was gonna bring up. And, yeah, oh my Arceus, that would’ve been so friggin’ rude.
But honestly? After this morning?
I don’t really know how I feel anymore.